


Tending to Micky

by gwenweybourne



Category: The Monkees, The Monkees (Band), The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Bondage, Consent is Sexy, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Light BDSM, M/M, Micky is a brat, Mike is so tired, Oral Sex, PWP, Slapping, Spanking, show-verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 08:33:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21504949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwenweybourne/pseuds/gwenweybourne
Summary: Mike’s temporary job has him too busy to spend time with Micky, who begins acting out to get his attention. He gets it — and then some. Mike takes some time to teach his boy some self-control.Dedicated to anyone who’s ever thought that Micky just needs a good spanking now and again.
Relationships: Micky Dolenz/Mike Nesmith
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	Tending to Micky

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been told before, in this fandom, with these characters, but I wanted to try my own take on it in my quest to write a PWP. I got closer this time! It's about BDSM play -- though pretty vanilla in the grand scheme of things. It's more explicit and hardcore than stuff I've written before. Not everyone's cup of tea. But entirely consensual from start to finish. Mike has the control, but Micky has the power. 
> 
> Just a bit of fun. And since my last series had a very soft, inexperienced Mike -- I wanted to write him a little more grrrrr this time. Sorry for the lack of Davy/Peter content. I essentially packed them off on holidays so Micky and Micky could have the Pad to themselves to play their naughty game ;-)
> 
> p.s. This not part of my Infinite Tuesdays series - just a little standalone.

Micky was driving Mike around the bend. With Davy in England for his sister’s wedding and Peter away at a family reunion, Mike was the sole focus of Micky's attention. Normally he loved having the Pad to himself and his lover, but Mike had taken a temporary job out of desperation when they got so far behind on rent that Babbitt nearly made good on his ever-present threat to evict them. Mike loaded and unloaded stock at a warehouse. The hours were long and the work was gruelling and thankless, but it paid well. Mike wanted to stick at it until the Monkees had a little rainy-day fund. With Peter and Davy gone they couldn’t rehearse or gig anyway.

But this meant Micky was on his own nearly all the time. Micky tended to not do well without his live-in playmates. And when Mike came in the door at the end of the day, dirty and exhausted, Micky would be on him immediately, wanting to play, wanting to talk, wanting to riff, wanting to screw. And Mike just didn't have the energy or patience for any of it. He’d let Micky suck him off or even fuck him if it meant Mike didn’t have to move very much. But it wasn’t enough. Even _enough_ was never enough for a boy like Micky, whose appetites for everything were ravenous. He was always hungry, always horny, always moving around, always curious, always trying to figure out how everything worked all the time.

One night, even though he was tired after his shift, Mike took Micky out to a club, hoping that the kid would burn off some energy on the dance floor. Mike wasn’t much for dancing himself, unless it was the Texas Two-Step or slow-dancing — neither of which he could do with Micky since it wasn’t that kind of club. He didn’t mind Micky dancing with girls or even if he flirted with them a little. Micky’s default setting was flirtation, anyway. Mike kinda enjoyed watching it, to be honest. They both still had a decent appetite for women and had, on occasion, taken home an open-minded kind of girl to share. Micky bugged Mike to join him on the dance floor with some local girls they knew from Monkees gigs; he pleaded, he wheedled, but Mike just wanted to sit and drink a beer or two. Finally, Micky got a look in his eye and turned his back on Mike, heading back into the throng of people with determination.

 _Oh, boy_ , Mike thought. _This is gonna be trouble._

Micky was on a tear. Flirting up a storm with any girl who looked at him twice — or once, or not even at all. Mike pursed his lips and watched as Micky put on a show for him. He sat back, drinking his beer as Micky danced close with girl after girl, touching them, letting them touch him and run their hands through his hair. Mike narrowed his eyes.

And then Micky was off to the side of the dance floor, tête-a-tête with a cute brunette. Mike tapped the ridge of the beer bottle against his teeth and watched. And then a tall, handsome young blond man joined them, slipping his arm around the brunette’s waist. Micky didn’t seem to mind, continuing to smile and talking to both of them now.

It was when the blond touched Micky on the arm and Micky shot him a dazzling smile that Mike got to his feet and stormed across the dance floor, all but shoving dancing couples out of the way.

“Well, hello there,” he said with forced cheer as he joined the trio, slipping an arm around Micky’s shoulders. The blond cocked his head and the brunette giggled, looking at him. “Okay, Dan, I agreed to a threesome, but I didn’t say anything about a gang-bang!”

“Not to worry, you’re back to a duet,” said Mike, grabbing Micky by the back of the neck. “I’ll just be takin’ this and be on my way. Have a nice evening.” And he yanked Micky away, leaving the confused couple staring after them.

Mike hauled Micky back to the table and all but threw him down into a chair. Micky shook his hand off and glared at him, pouting.

“Whaddya think you’re playin’ at, huh?” Mike hissed. “Comin’ on to everything in a skirt was bad enough, but now you’re flirtin’ with another guy in front of me?”

“Oh, what do you care?” Micky sneered. “You don’t even wanna be here. You never wanna do anything anymore. You’ve become a stone drag, man.”

“Micky, I’ve told you a hundred times, dammit, I’m —”

“Tired,” Micky said, rolling his eyes. “ _Tired_ , _tired_ , _tired_. You’re always tired! You and that stupid job. I think you like it … being out of the house so much. You … you wait until Davy and Peter are gone and then you leave me alone all day and ignore me every night … I’m … I’m sick of it, Mike! Do you even want me anymore? We’re not even playing any music lately! We’re young and have the rest of our lives to have dumb jobs and be boring and old! I wanna have fun and if you won’t have it with me, then …”

“Then … what, exactly?” Mike’s tone dropped dangerously low. His gaze darkened and he stared right into Micky’s eyes.

Micky met his gaze, but he couldn’t hold it and he bit his lip and dropped his eyes to the table and just shrugged, hanging his head and curling his shoulders in.

Mike was still glaring, but read his lover’s body language. “Hmmm. I think I see it now. You’re peeved because I ain’t tended to you lately, huh? You’re spinning out.”

Micky lifted his head a little bit, reacting to the word “tend.” Mike only used that verb in a very specific context. He nodded wordlessly.

“You wanna start this here?”

Micky shrugged again.

Mike bit back a sigh. “You’re right, y’know. I ain’t tended to you in some time. But you’re damn well old enough to know why. You know I can’t stand that crummy job, but we’ve needed the bread. Especially with us not bein’ able to gig while the guys are away. And you’ve yet to be able to hold down a straight job for more than a few days. Yeah, we’re young, but we’re young and _flat broke_ most of the time. You ain’t dumb. You know all of this. You’re just bein’ a brat and pressing my buttons for attention. You’re bein’ real bad, Mick. I’ve let it slide, but you know you weren’t gonna get away with it forever. If this is what you want … tell me your safe word.”

Micky looked up at Mike and blinked. It was the question Mike always asked before a scene started. If Micky reminded Mike of the safe word, it was the signal to begin, and it wouldn’t stop until it reached a natural conclusion or until Micky used the safe word again, whichever came first. So far he’d never had to use it. Mike always knew how to push him just far enough and Micky trusted his lover to know his limits beyond what even he knew about himself.

But if Micky didn’t want to get anything started, he could just tell Mike he didn’t know his safe word. And that would be it until the next time Mike asked. Micky chewed his lip and considered. If he kept going the way he was going, Mike might never ask him again. He knew he was misbehaving, but he couldn’t help it. His head was spinning, his thoughts disordered, and his body felt tense and everything was all pent up and he knew what he needed, even if he knew he’d just made things that much worse for himself with the way he’d been acting — especially tonight. Mike would punish him harder for sure.

He met Mike’s eyes and said, “Daisy.”

“Say it again.”

“Daisy.”

“All right, then.” Mike looked at him coolly. “But, as you see” — he held up his half-full bottle — “I ain’t finished my beer yet. I worked hard for the money that bought this beer and you ain’t gonna make me waste it. So you’re gonna go sit in the car and wait until I’m ready to go.”

Micky’s mouth fell open. “But, Mike! I —”

“You got three options, boy: Do as you’re told. Or keep pissin’ me off and it will be all the worse for you back home. Or you use your safe word now and it all ends before it even starts. You want that?”

Micky closed his mouth and shook his head silently, chastened.

Mike leaned forward, so close that his lips brushed Micky’s ear. Micky shivered.

“Now get your narrow ass back to the fucking car and wait for me like the good boy I know you can be. I’ll come and collect you when I’m damn well ready. And from now on you don’t speak until you’re spoken to … unless it’s to use your safe word. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Micky whispered.

Mike looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Yes? Yes … what, you disrespectful little shit.”

“Yes, sir,” Micky whispered again, dropping his eyes.

“You’ll pay for that later. Now git …”

Micky got up abruptly and was about to leave the table when Mike called for him to stop. Micky stopped and looked at Mike questioningly.

Mike slowly dragged his eyes over his lover’s body, over his face and torso, and down to his crotch where the shape of Micky’s growing hard-on was becoming increasingly visible through his slacks.

“That’s what I thought,” Mike drawled. “All right, you get on back to the car — you’re obscene, boy. Gotta teach you some self-control.”

Micky nodded, turned and left.

Mike smiled to himself. He was annoyed that this night wasn’t going to be relaxing like he thought, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hard as a rock as well.

He drank his beer exactly as quickly as he wanted to, neither nursing nor rushing. It tasted so good he was tempted to get another, but he took a little bit of pity on Micky, waiting all alone in the car out in the dark while everyone danced inside.

Plus, he had work to do. No rest for the weary. This boy was going to be the end of him.

* * *

Mike pulled the keys from his pocket as he approached the Monkeemobile. He had seen the back of Micky’s head in the passenger seat as he approached and was pleased that he’d followed instructions. He’d half-expected the kid to try to sneak back into the club or look for some action in the parking lot just to really burn his bridges. Micky had a destructive streak that could get out of hand if left unchecked.

He slid into the driver’s seat and didn’t look at Micky as he started the car up and pulled away. They said nothing to each other during the short drive back to the Pad, but the tension was building, crackling and electric. Mike was feeling energized by it. Deep down, he knew he’d been neglecting Micky and he loved his boy so much. He knew Micky loved him, too, and was probably getting pretty desperate to pull this stunt tonight. But this was his choice. He’d be better for it later, and he knew it. They’d discovered this some time ago when this kind of play began to creep into their sex life. The kinds of things Micky sometimes needed and no one had been able to give him until Mike entered his life.

But this kind of thing needed rules. Mike always wanted to be sure that he was never doing anything against Micky’s will. Forcing him to submit and hurting him just for the sake of hurting him wasn’t the point of any of this. Mike knew some people got off on that kind of stuff, but he wasn’t like that. He liked to play rough and talk dirty, but not in a way that involved intimidation and genuine fear. That’s where the rules came in. Luckily, Mike was good at rules. And it turned out that Micky was good at being ruled when it was done right. And Mike felt proud that Micky trusted him to play this role in his life. Mike was in control, but Micky held the power.

Upon arriving at the Pad, Mike turned to Micky. “Go into the bathroom, take off your socks, shoes, and all your clothes, and take a shower. You’ve been dancing and rubbing up on people and you stink. Clean yourself up, put all your clothes back on and come upstairs to our room when you’re done. And don’t you even think about jerking off in the shower. I’ll know if you have.”

Micky nodded.

“What’s that now?”

“Yes, sir,” Micky said softly, and obediently went off to the bathroom. Mike smiled and slowly made his way upstairs. Micky didn’t really stink at all — he was a pretty clean boy and, even so, Mike liked his natural musk. Especially after a gig when Micky was sweaty and high on adrenaline and giving off pheromones that made Mike feel drunk even when he hadn’t had a drop to drink. Often he liked to have a good sniff under his arms and between his legs when they were rolling around in bed together. He tasted great, too. But Mike also liked it when Micky was fresh from the shower and Mike got to get him all sweaty again. Licking and kissing him everywhere. Fucking him until he came all over himself.

About ten minutes later, Micky stepped into the room with his clothes clinging slightly to his still-damp skin. He smelled clean and fresh and Mike felt a surge of arousal.

“All right,” he said gruffly. “You know you ain’t allowed clothes now. Strip. You got five seconds. Every second you go over I add to your punishment.” He began to count, leaving a beat in between to be fair. Ten seconds was no challenge for Micky at all and rendered the game pointless. Five was doable if Mike counted slow, and on what Micky was wearing that particular occasion. “One … two …”

Micky sucked in a sharp breath of anxious excitement and yanked at the clothes he had just put on minutes ago. Unfortunately for him, he’d put his boots and socks back on before coming upstairs and he was wearing a buttoned shirt that didn’t easily go over his head. Mike punished Micky more if he ripped or otherwise damaged his clothes in his haste to remove them. He clocked in at seven seconds.

Mike tsked. “You know where you went wrong. I only said you had to put your clothes back on, not your shoes. You get so excited and worked up that you make mistakes. Turn around. Hands behind your back.”

Micky’s color was high and he was already breathing quickly as he turned and placed his hands behind in his back in a position they’d determined was most comfortable for him for a long period of being bound.

“Hold them there,” Mike instructed. And then he delivered two blows, one to each of Micky’s ass cheeks, causing him to cry out sharply. Mike reached into the closet for one of his ties and expertly bound Micky’s hands behind his back. He’d never thought his skills for trussing and hog-tying cattle at Aunt Kate’s ranch would come in handy like this.

“On your knees. Your favorite position, you little slut.”

Micky dropped to his knees and looked up at Mike from under his lashes, a flirtatious smile playing over his wide mouth. Mike glared at him and smacked him across the face. “Don’t you look at me like that. Eyes on the floor, you little shit.”

Micky hung his head, gazing at the floorboards.

“I think you forget your place, Micky. Tell me your two purposes while we’re in this room together like this.”

“To serve you.”

“And?”

“To please you.”

“That’s right. You exist for me, for my pleasure,” Mike said in a low tone. “You don’t do things … you get things done to you. You don’t touch me, I touch you. And I discipline you to make you better. I do it all for you. And you’re grateful for it. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Micky murmured.

Mike cuffed him on the head and Micky bit back a pained sound. “Louder.”

“Yes, sir!” Micky said sharply.

“That’s better.”

Mike’s hand hovered over his belt buckle and he saw an excited, hopeful glint in Micky’s eyes. He suspected as much.

“You’d like that right now, wouldn’t you. My cock in your big mouth. You still need to be taken down a peg or two, brat. You think you can get what you want by whorin’ it out in public when you think I ain’t payin’ enough attention to you? Well, you got my attention, but it comes with a price tag, boy.” Mike walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. “Crawl over here. And then get over my knee. God knows you’ve been cruising for a spanking for a while now. Seems like you just can’t behave yourself unless I teach you a lesson every so often.”

Micky hobbled over to Mike on his knees as Mike watched impassively. Then Micky struggled to his feet and made to bend over Mike’s knee. Mike grabbed him roughly by the hair and pushed his head down, pressing his right cheek into the mattress. “Spread ’em.” Micky spread his legs wide, then yelped as Mike dealt the first blow.

“That was one. Count the rest. You fuck it up and I start over again until you get it right. You’re being a pain in my ass, so I’m returnin’ the favor.”

He spanked Micky again, on the other cheek this time.

“Two!” Micky cried.

Mike continued to spank him as Micky writhed and squirmed and counted, his cries growing louder as the flesh on his smooth buttocks flamed red. Yet Mike could still feel his erection pressed up against his leg.

After Micky counted ten blows, Mike added five more for his behavior at the club. Tears pricked Micky’s eyes as he thanked Mike for the spanking. Mike admired his handiwork. Micky’s tight little ass so red and rosy. He spread Micky open, sucked his thumb for a moment and stroked the boy’s hole a little bit as a reward. A tease of what was to come. Micky moaned, his hips twitching, pressing up into his touch.

“So eager, you slut. You have no cool at all.” Mike stroked over and around Micky’s entrance, then pressed shallowly inside. “You need to be fucked hard and often, don’t you? Never met a boy who needed as much cock as you. Is this why you start climbin’ the walls if I don’t tend to you often enough?”

“Yes, sir, I’m sorry, sir,” Micky moaned shamelessly, trying to get Mike’s thumb deeper inside him. Mike smirked, removing the digit and giving Micky another firm smack on the ass, enjoying the sound of his yelp before standing up and pulling Micky roughly to his feet. Micky’s face was flushed, his breathing shallow and quick. Mike smacked him lightly on the cheek, causing Micky to whimper. “You’re such an ungrateful little brat, you know that?” He reached down to pinch, flick and twist at Micky’s nipples. Micky whimpered louder, wanting to move away, but managing to stay still as Mike tormented the hardened nubs of flesh. “I been workin’ my fingers to the bone to keep a roof over our heads. While you live the Life of Riley and whine about how I done you wrong. I oughta be restin’ up right now, but no, I gotta deal with your needy ass.” He smacked Micky on the other cheek and then took him by the arm and turned him around to face into the mirror, which was large enough to reflect Micky’s naked body back at them, down to his thighs.

“Look at you. You’re all worked up. I discipline you and you just get hornier. You’re out of control, boy.” Mike flicked Micky’s hard-on, causing him to whimper with pain, but then Mike wrapped his fingers around Micky’s cock and began to stroke him. “Looks like we need to rub this one out before we can continue.”

Micky moaned and leaned his head back against Mike’s shoulder, rubbing up against him like a cat. Mike grabbed him around the throat, not choking, but squeezing lightly to control the squirming boy. “Look in that mirror. Watch me bring you off. Think about how little self-control you have and how shameless you are, you slut. And how grateful you should be you have to me to set you right.”

“Th-thank you, sir,” Micky gasped, fighting to keep his gaze focused on the mirror and on Mike’s hand jerking him off hard and fast.

“What do I gotta do, huh?” Mike growled into Micky’s ear, still holding his throat. “Make you go out and cut a switch like my momma did when I was a bad boy? Problem is I’d hate to mark up your pretty ass like that. I like spankin’ ya better. Makin’ it all rosy pink and pretty before I fuck it.”

Micky whimpered, struggling to hold still and not fuck Mike’s fist, eyes still fixed on his reflection in the mirror. Mike’s hands on his throat and his cock; controlling him; owning him. He could feel Mike’s hard-on pressing up against his bare ass through the older boy’s jeans.

“Good boy,” Mike whispered, noting Micky’s restraint as he stroked him. “Before you’d be trying to fuck my hand like it were the first thing that ever touched you. Maybe you deserve a little reward for that, huh?”

“Please, sir,” Micky gasped. “Yes, please.”

Mike’s hand was moving even harder and faster now as he felt Micky beginning to tense as his orgasm built. “See, originally, I was feelin’ a little cross with you and was … gonna … stop.” He stopped jerking Micky entirely and the boy nearly sobbed with frustration. “N-n-noooo, please … sir … please …”

“Don’t beg unless I tell you to. I can’t abide it when you whine. I said _originally_ I was gonna stop. And make you hump the mattress like a dirty little boy if you wanted to get off. But I’ve changed my mind.” He resumed stroking Mick again, squeezing his throat for a moment to force Micky to focus. Micky gasped and moaned, trembling against Mike. Mike let his hand fall away from Micky’s throat and down to fondle his balls, feeling how tight and hot they were getting as Micky neared climax.

“You gonna come for me, boy?”

“Yes … yes, sir …” Micky gasped.

“Do it. Now.”

They’d done this enough that Mike’s order was enough to trigger Micky and he let out a grateful sob and came, shooting over Mike’s hand. Mike kept stroking him until Micky was spent and shaking. He lifted up his hand to Micky’s face. “You made a mess, boy. Clean it up.”

Micky moaned and began to lap up his come with long strokes of his tongue.

“That’s good. Leave a little bit for me. You know how I love your taste. But I’m spending all of mine in your ass later. But maybe I’ll give you a little preview taste if you’re good.”

“I’ll be good, I’ll be good, sir,” Micky gasped before sucking Mike’s fingers nearly clean.

Mike took his hand back and licked the rest of Micky’s release from his palm. “That’s good, boy. Very good. You’re pleasin’ me real nice. Now get up on the bed. I’m gonna tie you up now and you’re going to settle down before we continue.”

Micky clumsily climbed up on the bed and fell onto his stomach, limp and shaky and compliant. Mike half considered climbing up there, hitching up Micky’s hips and taking him right then and there. But this game was as much an exercise in self-control for him as it was in obedience for Micky. It would be better if he waited and let himself settle down a bit, too. His dick was pressing up against his zipper and it wasn’t getting any better as he hog-tied Micky, binding his feet and lashing it to the ties on his wrists. Then he lashed that to the foot of the bed, securing his boy. Micky whimpered softly, but not unhappily. Mike knew this made him feel secure and helped him settle and quiet.

He stroked his hand over Micky’s curls, and checked his bonds and that Micky’s airway wasn’t compromised. “I’m going downstairs now. I’m leaving the bedroom door open so I can hear you. I will not leave the house. You’re not permitted to speak now until I come back. Unless it’s to use your safe word. If you use the safe word, the scene ends. If you say anything else, I’ll have to punish you more before we can continue. Nod if you understand.”

Micky nodded silently, his chest still heaving.

“You settle and have a think about what you did to earn this discipline. And when I come back, I’m taking my pleasure from you as payment for my hard work.”

Micky nodded again. Mike nodded in return and forced himself to leave the bedroom and go downstairs. Lord, Micky was exhausting sometimes, but of course Mike got off on this, too. It never ceased to surprise him how shifting into his role changed him, from the way he behaved, to the more formal manner of his speech. It only worked properly if he communicated to Micky and made him feel safe at the same time as being completely at Mike’s mercy and taking the physical punishment he meted out. The discipline Micky craved. His boundless energy, zany humor, sharp mind, motor mouth, and voracious sexual appetite were all part of what Mike loved about his boy, but Micky spun out of control if Mike didn’t rein him in like this from time to time. And no one had ever known how to manage and handle him until he met Mike. When Mike realized that Micky wanted — needed — to submit, but hadn’t found anyone who would take it on or do it the way he needed.

Now he waited to see what happened. When he tied Micky up and left him like this, he sometimes disobeyed because Mike hadn’t disciplined him enough and he was still spinning. Sometimes he became so relaxed that he fell asleep. More often than not, Mike would end the scene when that happened unless Micky really begged to be fucked. But usually it meant he was so tired after whatever had come before that he just slept for the night after Mike untied him. And other times he stayed awake and waited obediently and patiently for Mike to come and take what he wanted from him.

Mike used the bathroom and freshened up a bit. He had a bourbon and tried to read some of the paper, but in the back of his mind, he kept thinking of the trussed-up naked boy on his bed and finally he climbed the stairs again to see what was waiting for him. Micky had stayed quiet so he was either waiting for Mike, or conked out.

He was pleased when he entered the room and Micky looked at him placidly with a little smile.

Mike smirked. “Mmmm, you’re bein’ real good tonight. Should I be worried you got somethin’ up your proverbial sleeve?”

Micky smiled softly and shook his head. “No, sir.”

“I’m gonna take you now. As much as I want until I’m satisfied.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mike untied everything except Micky’s hands. “Sit up. And then get down on your knees and get ready to take my cock. You have five seconds. One … two …”

Micky pulled himself up with difficulty and all but fell off the bed to the floor in his hurry to kneel before Mike. He made it before the time was up.

Mike unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock and balls out through the fly of his shorts. He never undressed to have sex with Micky this way. Part of the game was keeping Micky naked and bound, and Mike clothed and in control.

He wrapped his fingers lightly around his semi and let Micky watch him touch himself for a moment. Then he lifted up his shaft slightly and ordered, “Balls first. Suck ’em. Give ’em both equal attention or I’ll get mad. You don’t want that. Get me hard so I can fuck your slut mouth.”

Micky nodded eagerly and angled his head up, sucking one of Mike’s balls into his hot mouth. Mike groaned and squeezed his cock as Micky sucked and laved his testicle with his lips and tongue. And then repeated with the other. Back and forth until Mike was fully erect.

Finally, Mike grabbed Micky’s hair and yanked him back. “Open your mouth, boy.”

Micky obeyed and Mike pushed deep inside without any preamble. “Suck it good. You know what I like.”

Micky groaned and began to suck, his eyelids fluttering then opening as he gazed up at Mike. Mike met his gaze and saw Micky’s cock beginning to harden again. Goddamn this insatiable boy. Mike had never met anyone like him and it made him even more possessive of the needy little shit. Micky was his and Mike would do whatever it took to meet his appetite. To give Micky everything he needed. Growling, he tightened his grip in Micky’s curly hair and began to fuck his mouth. Micky could take it — Mike had trained him to. In fact, he could take a lot more than that.

After a minute or two, Mike withdrew to let Micky catch his breath. “You’re gonna take it all now, boy. Relax and let it happen.”

Micky obediently opened his mouth again and Mike groaned softly as he slid every inch of his cock down into Micky’s throat, so Micky’s flat nose was pressed into Mike’s pubic hair. Mike held the back of Micky’s head and enjoyed the sight and the sensation for a few long moments, then pulled out while Micky gasped and coughed and drooled. He paused for a few seconds to let the boy breathe and in case Micky needed to use his safe word, but he did not, so Mike grabbed him again and pushed his cock back down Micky’s throat, watching tears well at the corners of his eyes, but he looked so good when he was deep-throating.

“Good boy,” Mike said roughly, pulling his cock out again. “You’re a born cocksucker with that pretty mouth. Now get back on the bed and present for me.”

“Yes, sir,” Micky coughed, gasping, and he tried to stumble to his feet, fell, and tried again as Mike watched impassively. Micky clambered ungracefully onto the bed and assumed the position: on his knees, ass up in the air, legs spread wide, his head pressed down into the mattress.

Mike made a sound in the back of his throat and went to fetch the lubricant from the bedside table. He carefully climbed onto the bed and knelt behind Micky, taking in the sight of his spread legs, his rosy ass cheeks, his puckered little hole, his cock and balls hanging heavily between his legs. All for Mike. He gave a silent word of thanks and touched Micky, laying claim to all that was his. Running his hands over Micky’s buttocks, teasing his perineum, fondling his balls and his cock. Everything but his asshole. Micky moaned and his hips twitched.

Mike’s cock was heavily coated with Micky’s saliva after the deep-throating so he let that be for now. But he drizzled some of the lube over Micky’s hole and massaged it deep, in slow circles while Micky whimpered. He slid a slick finger inside him and fucked him slowly, watching the digit slide in and out.

Micky made a strangled sound of frustration and Mike smiled. “You wanna beg real bad, doncha?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Micky somehow managed to make it sound like a whine without actually saying a real word.

“You’ve tightened up. Maybe I should let you alone more often.”

Micky made another wordless sound that definitely sounded deeply displeased by this notion. Mike chuckling, shaking his head. Clever boy found his way around his rules when he put his mind to it. But then he gave Micky’s ass a sharp smack, resulting in a yelp of pain.

“Quit your moanin’. You’re getting fucked and you’re getting fucked hard. No chance that ain’t happenin’ tonight, so you can cool it.”

Micky made a soft, acquiescing sound and focused on the sensation of Mike’s finger inside him.

Mike slid a second one inside and went deeper, curling his fingertips and finding Micky’s prostate. Micky cried out and bucked up slightly in surprise. Mike always loved how responsive he was. He kept fucking Micky this way, teasing his sweet spot until Micky was panting and moaning and barely able to hold back needy whining sounds.

Micky’s saliva had mostly dried on his cock by this time, so Mike took a moment to lube himself up properly and then he pressed the head of his cock against Micky’s hole, rubbing it in small, wet circles as Micky gasped.

“All right. Beg me.” It wasn’t a request.

“Please,” Micky gasped. “Oh please, fuck me, sir. Please …”

“You really need it?”

“Uh-huh!”

“What if I don’t give a fig about what you need, huh?” That wasn’t true. Not even a little bit, but it was part of the game.

“I’ll make you come. I’ll be so good for you. Anything you want, sir. Please … put your cock inside me. Please,” Micky babbled.

“Well, when you put it that way …” Mike drawled, and then he pushed himself in and it was such a sweet, sweet slide. He closed his eyes and his deep groan meshed with Micky’s needy cry and it almost sounded like harmony. Mike began to fuck Micky, slow at first, but quickly picking up the pace. He loved the way his thick, hard cock looked when it was sliding between Micky’s red, punished ass cheeks. Micky moaned on each thrust, his cheek pressed into the mattress, gazing up at Mike, his face expressing a grateful kind of awe that made Mike feel about a thousand feet tall.

He snapped his hips forward, wringing a shuddering cry from Micky. Mike grunted, fingers digging into Micky’s hips as he thrust harder and deeper, angling to hit Micky’s sweet spot again and again. He wanted to make Micky come without even touching his cock this time.

Micky moaned and keened as Mike began his assault, at one point forgetting his role and calling out Mike’s name, earning him another hard slap on the bottom. And then Micky lost coherence entirely and Mike felt him tense and shake.

“Come for me, Micky,” he groaned, keeping up the pace and hitting Micky just right, over and over again.

Micky made a sound that was somewhere in between a sob and a scream, bucking back against Mike even as Mike kept pounding hard into him. He watched Micky's cock spurt onto the blankets beneath them and he smiled. It would have been easy for him to let Micky's clenching muscles carry him over the edge, but he resisted. The final part of the game was always that it wasn’t over until Mike came. And sometimes he liked to take his time, even after Micky was limp and spent; Mike would keep fucking him until he was darn well ready to come.

“That was real nice,” he said, curling his fingers tighter around Micky’s hips as the boy’s legs shook and he struggled to keep himself in the kneeling position while Mike continued to thrust into him. “You look so pretty when you come. But you know the rules — you're here for my pleasure. And I ain’t done with you yet. You'll keep taking my cock, you understand?”

“Yes, sir, thank you, sir,” Micky gasped, moaning.

Mike slowed his thrusts somewhat, just enjoying the sensation of being inside Micky and how good he felt around Mike’s cock. He leaned forward, curling his body over Micky’s to kiss the palms of his bound hands and suck on his fingertips. Micky made a soft sound and Mike smiled as Micky’s hands lovingly caressed his cheeks and brushed over his lips. He pulled himself back up straight and closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensation and pleasure until his orgasm almost took him by surprise and he was coming, not violently, but passionately, spending himself deep inside Micky. He continued to rock his hips until his cock felt too sensitive to keep going.

With a contented sound, Mike pulled out slowly and carefully lowered Micky's hips to the bed, allowing him finally to stretch his long legs. Micky let out a groan of relief. Next, Mike reached up and untied his hands, encouraging Micky to roll onto his side. Mike lay down to face him and leaned in to press a tender kiss to Micky's mouth, then took his right hand and began to massage his wrist and hand, slowly and methodically. Micky closed his eyes and sighed softly.

“You did real good, Micky,” Mike murmured after a minute or two, picking up Micky's left hand to repeat the massaging and stroking. “So good. I'm proud of you.”

Mike kissed him again, gently licking into his mouth and Micky kissed him back lazily, his mouth warm and soft and pliant. Mike knew his boy was exhausted and would need to sleep very soon. He slowly pulled away and opened the bedside table drawer, taking out a jar of cream. He pulled a pillow over for Micky’s head. “On your stomach, babe. Lie down here.”

Micky made a snuffling, sleepy sound and did as he was asked. Mike unscrewed the jar, scooped out a generous amount of the cream and began to tenderly rub it over and into Micky’s red, sore buttocks, then into the cleft and over his hole.

“Mmmmm,” Micky murmured.

“Does that feel nice?” Mike asked softly.

“Mmm-hmmm. Thank you, Mike.”

“It’s my privilege to take care of you,” Mike said. _In every way_.

He used the remaining cream on his hands to massage Micky’s shoulders and into the joints after having his arms bound behind his back for so long. Micky moaned and sighed in response to the touches, but not in a sexual way for once. He was finally spent and satisfied.

And then Mike nudged Micky to move enough so he could tug up the blankets and sheets over him. He kissed the boy’s forehead. “Go to sleep, baby. You've earned your rest.”

“… don’t leave me, Mike.”

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere, babe.” Mike undressed and slipped under the covers next to Micky, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as Micky snuggled in close against his bare chest, his eyes fluttering shut.

“I love you, Mike. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Micky.”

Mike hadn’t realized how pent up he’d been feeling as well. The physical exhaustion of the job seemed to override everything. He mentally calculated how much he’d socked away so far and decided that he would collect the next paycheck and then give his notice. To give him a few days alone with his boy before Davy and Peter came home.

He looked down at Micky in his arms, his face soft in a gentle, serene expression of easy slumber and knew that this was what it was all about. There’d be other crummy jobs. There was only one Micky Dolenz. That math added up for certain.


End file.
